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omorphiavelvet · 3 years

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Kiss of Death.

The rain was incredibly tranquil, bouts of pitter-patter dropped onto different surfaces of concrete, creating a constant tempo and rhythm, one that could easily lull anyone to sleep. The imminent thunder was absent, but lightning would show itself every now and then, nonetheless, the rain poured.

On the many surfaces, the raindrops landed, stood two people. Boys, one tall and the other short by a considerable margin. The short, fair-skinned boy was clearly battered, holding his wounded arm whilst a cross lodged into the ground stood beside him, the glow of the markings within the cross was faint, and the black hues outside the markings only begun to serve as a contrast to the faint but determined glow.

The boy he was facing was unscathed, but it was clear how he was irritated and unwilling to tire himself out. He held a regal air over his lean and tall figure, hands behind his back as his lances stood by his side much like an extension of his regalia. His sculptured face was slashed neatly on the cheek, and although the wound has long healed, the scar was visible.

“How long do you intend to do this? You cannot defeat me.” The taller spoke, voice cold, clearly irritated, but his deep voice eerily calm as he gives the boy a cold stare, his brown eyes dull and empty.

The shorter boy merely scoffed, as battered as he may be, he was not one to give up easily. Letting go of his wounded arm to see that it no longer bled, but only left a scar, his own eyes glaring up in determination towards the taller, as the cross split lengthwise, and spears popped out of its mechanisms, adorned with onyx-silver chains.

“Until you give him back.” the shorter started with a stammer, grabbing a spear from the cross and clutching it tight in his hand, “I’m not going anywhere!” he declares, charging towards the man as the spears from the cross soon followed.

The taller made no move to intercept his oncoming attack, as the shorter lifted himself off of his feet and threw the spear as a preemptive strike, with frightening accuracy to add as the spear aimed to lunge itself at the man’s chest.

A portal opens within the spear’s trajectory, swallowing the object as another portal opened behind the shorter, spitting the spear back out with the blunt end as it knocks him over, nearly groveling at the taller’s feet had it not been for his hands that stopped the momentum.

“You are weak,” the man spoke again, “The honkai may have chosen you to hold a core, but you are no more than an ordinary human holding a powerful weapon, how do you intend to stop me, a god?” this time, his cold voice turned into a mocking one as he floats up to the air.

A barrage of portals surround the weakened boy, and within an instant, lances were spat out, though clearly aimed to kill him, they only bound and immobilized him, restricting his movement with the sheer girth of the lances.

“Give…” the boy started, shaking in determination and pure fury, making the lances vibrate, “Mingyu back!” he cried out as the lances that held him shattered, jumping up towards the taller with renewed vigor, his tattered blue and black getup replaced with white and lilies adorned the edge of his garment as the marking on his back glows a soft yet regal blue.

The man, with his irritation, now etched on his handsome face, summons a force of shockwave as it pushes everything within the back with terrifying power, but the boy, suspended in mid-air, refused to budge and only sought to have the man within an arms reach.

Within fingertips reach and before the taller could make any moves to get away, a collection of crosses sprouted out of thin air, surrounding the pair as chains sprouted out, binding the taller in quick succession as the crosses immediately planted themselves to the ground, leaving the dust to settle.

The man now kneeling down at the mercy of the shorter, was wrapped and completely immobilized.

Meanwhile, the shorter was panting, out of breath as he held the man by the cheeks, his gloved hands were gentle as if holding a lover’s face, perhaps to even kiss him. But the shorter’s sight was on the ground, trying to regain his composure and focus his sight.

“Two cores. . .reason and death no less.” The taller spoke, after a while of silence, “and to wield a weapon of the previous era so effortlessly, that’s foolish.” he remarked, though no trace of emotion was heard in his voice.

“You’re just a pathetic human, how could you have all this power?” He finished, disdain and envy clear in his deep yet distorted voice.

“I told you...I’m different.” The boy choked out, his voice clearly weak, but the look in his eyes once he looked up to face the taller was enough to back up his statement.

“Now...give Mingyu back.” He states, composure now regained as he never lets up his rather gentle grip on his visage, his eyes still holding the same amount of determination despite his rather calm voice.

“Oh...you mean this body?” The man merely scoffed, “Without my core, this man is merely a husk, a doll if you will.” He answered.

“Stop spouting bullshit and give him back to me!” his voice shook in anger, though he tries to sound as level-headed as possible.

“It’s true, the man you call your lover...Mingyu, was it?” he started mockingly, “He’s long gone- ah, that’s not fair to say, it’s more plausible to say that I am him.” The menacing declaration only served to fuel the shorter’s already bubbling anger.

“Stop lying and give him back!” The shorter tried, releasing a gust of power the rendered the nearby plant life as good as dead as his eyes were no longer humane, his pupils and irises now shaped into a cross, tilted to an angle, more specifically, an x.

“Why do you keeping asking for him? He’s just a clone, a vessel made to house my soul.” The man asks, incredulous, making no moves to attack, but rather he was trying to comprehend how this human went to great lengths for a human, a clone even.

The shorter succumbed to his knees, his pants returned, til they turned into soft sobbing, his hand slipping from his cheeks and to the neat blazer the taller wore, clutching it tightly as he kneels, humiliated, tired, and heartbroken.

“Please...” he hiccupped, pleaded to particularly no one as he lets out choked out sobs, looking up to face the other, cheeks tear-stained as they continue to flow, looking straight into the taller’s eyes, his determination long tempered into grief.

“Give him...give me Mingyu back…” He continued, his sobs becoming coughed out as he feels himself being ripped apart by a force stronger than anything he had encountered, “I’ll do anything, please, just give him back…” He begged.

The tranquil rain was no longer tranquil, as the arrival of the roaring thunder filled the grieving silence between the two figures, one bound by chains and the other holding onto them, placed in the center of the collection of crosses that surrounded them.

Before the taller could mock the other’s pitiful state of being, a flurry of memories rushed and flooded his senses. Memories of the one they call Mingyu.

“Mingyu, you have to let go of me.” A gentle voice resounded, too familiar not to be recognized by the one who possessed the taller.

“No! I refuse!” The shorter, presumably Mingyu, petulantly refused, holding onto the arm of a boy with eyes closed.

“Mingyu, come on.” The gentle voice began, as a hand reached to cup the other’s sunkissed visage.

“This isn’t how you play tag. Now, will you let me go? I promise to treat you to ice cream if you manage to catch me next time you’re it.” The gentle voice soothed the child, though not much taller than him as he wriggles his arm out of his grip and brushes some of the messed up tufts of raven black hair away from Mingyu’s sight.

Memories continued to flash in front of the taller. Laughter, tears, kisses, and the way the certain figures held each other, love clearly so evident in their shared gazes and longing stares.

Another memory began to play within his sight.

“Mingyu, look! I’m officially a valkyrie!” The gentle voice, now much cheerful and rather proud, showed himself off to Mingyu, who was all grown up, much, much taller than the owner of the voice.

“Valkyrie?” Mingyu tilts his head in confusion, “Isn’t the title for girls?” He asks, blinking slowly.

“Ah! well...Principal Theresa and the higher-ups decided to name me that for the time being...until I’m officially put in a squad, I’m an A-rank Valkyrie!” He explains meekly.

“Really? I thought you were aiming to be S-rank?”

“Well, I barely passed the written part of the exam.”

Soft laughter emitted from the pair as Mingyu lifts up the shorter, singing words of praise for him.

The last memory was too vivid to be called anything but recent.

“Mingyu, no!” the voice cried out, “Let me hold the core instead! Your body might not take another core!”

“I can’t let you do everything!” Mingyu replied.

The boy stopped in his tracks.

“You think I didn’t know?” Mingyu says, and for the first time, his voice broke from the sadness.

Flashes of memories began showing again, showing the familiar back of the shorter, adorned with the mark of an orchid flower and a frazzled orb.

“Two years,” A blue-haired girl started. “That’s all you have left,” She explained.

“The cores may be benevolent in nature, but the honkai energy is ultimately a chaotic force that powers the cores.” She explained. “Even if we took out the cores from your body, your Honkai adaptability, will do next to nothing to improve your lifespan.”

the boy, now draped in hospital gowns with things attached to his wrist, smiled sadly, giving out a soft sigh.

“I guess it was only a matter of time, huh?” he muttered, looking at his palms in silent thought.

he looks back up to the blue-haired woman before him, “can I make one request, professor?”

“go ahead.”

“Can you not tell this to Mingyu? I want to be able to tell him myself, at least.”

“Alright, but you'll have to tell him quick, that boy's been sweating buckets ever since he found you in the shipwreck.”

The shorter merely chuckled.

Little did the pair know, Mingyu was listening from the other side of the wall, a stray tear falling down from his cheek as his lips quivered.

He returns to the prior memory.

“You always try to do everything, always trying to save everyone! And maybe it is for the better…” Mingyu started.

“But why am I the only one who feels this way?” He continued.

“I may not be as skilled as fighting or as smart as the others, but all I know is…”

“Mingyu, please.”

“This world, this wretched world…” he croaked out, “Means nothing to me without you!”

and as Mingyu grabs the suspended gem, light completely envelops both of them and their surroundings.

He's immediately brought back to reality, and breaks free of the binds fairly easily, blowing the shorter of the male, including the crosses that surrounded them, away from him.

“Foolish human! sacrificing yourself for a clone, loving a soulless husk of flesh! no matter how many cores you take,” the man began, summoning cubes out of thin air.

“you will never stop the Honkai!” he cries out in anger, trapping the grieving male in the cubes and commanding his lances to slice the cube cleanly with much anger in his gestures.

He finishes his attack with a powerful blast at the sliced cubes, but his brown eyes were already fighting to be alight with life and vigor, causing a splitting headache that he forcibly chose to ignore.

The male, arising from the wreck as the dust settles, was completely beaten up, his beautiful getup shattered as he held on to a stray spear from his cross before.

He was completely silent, the black cross growing in purple flocking to him as he heaved labored breaths.

From this distance, the taller could not clearly see the man's expression, and slowly became unnerved by the silence that befell upon them. Having grown used to the cries of anger and grief of the other.

“Die! Die! Die! Return from whence you came!” The taller repeatedly cried out as he launched attacks towards the battered male.

Each attack was dodged gracefully as the shorter geared up and charged towards him, his cross becoming a skateboard of sorts as two spears joined on both ends and transformed into a double-ended one, parrying and blocking each attack that came his way.

Mingyu, the shorter began.

I'm sorry that you had to find out this way. That I didn't break my obsolete habit of doing everything for everyone. For giving myself to the world so readily without thinking of the people that wanted me as I am.

The attacks continued and did little to slow the shorter down, his eyes flaring up in a different kind of determination.

But to tell you the truth...I failed my written exam on purpose. Principal Theresa had told me that If I became S-rank... I'd have little time to see you, kiss you, hold you, and even fight alongside you.

I know I told you that I was gonna become the best soldier ever, but even then, what was being the best soldier when I couldn't see your smile? telling me how proud you are of me? teasing me about my height despite me being able to wreck your shit one hundred percent?

what was being the best soldier if you weren't there to scold me, telling me to be more careful next time, patching up my wounds, then cooking me the best dinner buffet ever?

He continued to charge towards him, jumping off of the cross, as another one materialized above the taller.

“using the same trick again! how foolish!” the taller cried out, gathering power in his hand, ready to toss it above.

“Judah!” the shorter cried out, fully materializing the cross, as it split in half lengthwise, spitting out spears that shot everywhere, held by golden chains as it surrounds the taller.

By then, the power had dissipated from his hand, effectively neutralising the taller's next attack as the cross drops behind him, pinning him on the surface of it through the chains that pulled.

“this...what is this?!” the taller cried out in anger, panicking when he was unable to channel and utilise his power.

“the oath of judah— or a complete perfect replica of it...principal theresa's cross.” the shorter explained.

“the cross contains the core of the herrscher of binding, who can neutralise honkai energy and bind the target...however this cross doesn't have that core...but it has enough power to bind you.” the shorter panted, the pain of infection flaring up from his back.

“the more you use your herrscher powers...the more your physical body will be infected.” the blue-haired woman explains again.

“so I'll turn into a zombie?”

“not specifically. the core of reason is sentient and rather benevolent...the core will probably eliminate your physical body...and turn you into a part of it.”

“and what about the core of death?”

“it's an independent core, it won't fight your disintegration, but I doubt the core will find the strength to work with the core of reason again if it doesn't have your body.”

Two years. He could've spent the remaining two years of his life with Mingyu. Images and thoughts of marriage, family, and lifelong accompaniment begin to swirl in the shorter's thoughts.

But Fate was far too cruel to the both of them.

As the taller struggled and mocked the shorter, pitifully bound by the chains who only flared up in response to his anger, the shorter takes a few steps forward, leaning down to the kneeling man.

“the core of death?”

“yes, it's abilities are quite... interesting.” the blue-haired woman, now known as einstein began to ponder verbally.

“what's so interesting about it?”

“for one, the core doesn't just kill living beings...or bring living beings back to life.”

“I'm not following.”

“I have studied the core for quite a while, and tested it on numerous samples, which were mostly physical.” she began.

“but there is this theory, that the core doesn't only kill living things... physically.”

“I'm still not getting it.”

“Part of why the Honkai zombies become essentially brainless is not only their cognitive functions becoming impaired, but also their egos being reduced to a number of commands.”

“so you're saying the core is capable of killing personalities? I don't see how that's beneficial.”

“With the right amount of practice and power, yes, it can kill personalities, but also bring them back to life.”

Einstein, your theory had better be true, the shorter remarked in his thoughts as he comes face to face with the taller.

the orchid flower mark on his back began to glow softly as he cups the other's cheeks yet again, before planting his lips upon the other's.

the kiss was nothing romantic, maybe to the taller, but to him, it may be the last kiss he'll ever give to him.

The taller began to feel a sense of drowsiness at the contact of their lips, not only was he feeling completely powerless, but his limbs were completely going slack, and his struggles ceased.

he couldn't move anything, not even his lips, as sensations slowly left his body. the patter of rain against his now drenched outfit, the hammering heart within him, and the cool winds that would've let his body shuddered in response.

The last sensation he felt was his lips, until his eyes met the darkness.

Mingyu finally comes to, as if he had awoken from a nightmare. His breaths were labored, like he was drowning and he was just resuscitated back to life.

he was not in the place that was ruptured into pitiful pieces by the powers capable of bending physical laws, but he was in a different space.

a peaceful one.

colors swirled all around him, he felt weightless, like a burden was relieved off of him as he looks around in mere confusion.

then the thought hits him.

he cries out the shorter's name, frantic, scrambling to his feet to run, in hopes of finding a way out of this space. To finally reunite with who he loved, the person he's been aching to hold in his arms.

“what are you flailing about? you look like a deer caught in the headlights.” the familiar voice spoke up, causing Mingyu to turn sharply to his back, seeing the owner of the voice he wanted to hear the most.

“How— When did you— god, you fucking idiot!” He immediately stammered, collecting the smaller into his arms, tears silently flowing to his cheeks as he gives him a squeeze, happy to have him in his arms.

“Hey, Hey. Deep breaths, baby.” The shorter one removed his death grip on him, smiling gently as he held him by the shoulders.

Mingyu collects himself and his composure, all too elated to finally be reunited with his lover.

“Wha— What happened? All I remember is grabbing the core and the light— What happened to the core?” Mingyu asks.

“The core is within you.” He began, his smile subtly dropping, “In the process of trying to fuse with the core, you awakened something within you.” He continued.

“So much is happening, Mingyu. I can't really tell you everything because I don't know how to begin.” He heaves a sigh at that.

“Oh.” Mingyu merely responds.

“How can we get out then? I wanna see everyone! I wanna make up for the things I did.” Mingyu questions.

The shorter a sad smile on his face, though Mingyu doesn't seem to notice it. “Come on, walk with me for a while.” He reaches a hand out.

Mingyu took the hand, intertwining their fingers as he followed his steps, letting a comfortable silence fall upon them.

“Mingyu.” He calls out.

“Hmm? Yes, my love?”

“How are you feeling?”

Mingyu draws a blank upon the question. How was he feeling? He couldn't describe it. He knocked out, heard a menacing voice whispering bitter remarks into his ear.

He could recall fragments of what seemed like him hurting his boyfriend, mocking him. He could hardly believe that he himself was saying such horrible and demeaning things.

Even in such a state of slumber, Mingyu refused to believe that he was hurting the ones he loved.

And when he saw his determined, yet tearful eyes, he almost believed that it was really him, he was really doing all of this.

He didn't want to believe it, he didn't want to listen to the voice that keeps planting sinister thoughts into his head.

So he dreamt.

He recalls every memory he has with him, fond, sad, lovely, and even when they first fought. All these memories, they were precious to him, and he allowed himself to be foolishly trapped into the dream, reliving his greatest memories.

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“You spaced out, it's okay.”

“What was the question again?”

“How are you feeling, my sweet?”

Mingyu ponders again, this time not recalling the series of events that transpired. Instead, he looks at their intertwined hands and the sweet smile his lover wore.

“Like home.” He finally answered.

“Like home?” the shorter repeated, clearly amused.

“Don't laugh, it's true!” Mingyu whined, pouting at him.

“Alright, alright. I won't.”

They shared a few chuckles as they walked, the pathless route seemingly endless as they fell into their natural state of conversing, banter and some sweet kisses here and there.

Mingyu was chuckling when he suddenly let go of his hand.

“We're here.” He says.

“Where?” Mingyu asks, before turning front and facing a rather ancient door.

“The end.” He answers, as calm as he could possibly be.

“What do you mean?”

“When you walk through that door, you'll wake up from the nightmare, my love.” He answers.

Silence befell upon them again, this time, it wasn't a comfortable one.

“What about you? Will I see you when I wake up?” Mingyu finally breaks the silence.

He couldn't bring himself to answer his question.

“Then I'm not going.”

“Mingyu, please—”

“No, I won't! That's final!” Mingyu began, firm.

“Mingyu, please you're acting like a child—”

“I don't care!” he added.

“I don't care if I'm living in a nightmare, If I'll sleep forever...I don't care! as long as I'm with you, I'll be fine!”

“Mingyu—”

Before he could continue to reason with him, Mingyu lunged into his hug, wrapping his arms around him.

“Please...please let me stay with you.” He pleaded.

“Mingyu, I can't.” He began.

Mingyu didn't let up, only hugging the smaller as tears began flowing down his cheeks again.

Mingyu, still holding onto him notices how weightless he's gotten.

“Mingyu, you have to let me go.”

“No!”

A shaky sigh escapes him, trying not to let the tears fall as he begins losing sensations, and at this point, he could barely feel Mingyu's grip around his body.

He was fading.

It was as Einstein had told him, the core was slowly consuming him before the Honkai infection could.

“Mingyu, please— we can't keep going on like this.”

“No!” Mingyu replied, defiant.

A sob escapes him at his reply, unable to hold back the tears.

“at least hold me properly?” he finally says, softly.

Mingyu reluctantly agrees, shifting and putting the boy on his lap as he wraps an arm around him from behind, and in this angle, he could see how the boy was becoming transparent.

“Why?” Mingyu asks, now full on crying as he gazes at the fading body of the love of his life.

“I told you to rest! eat your meals! and not strain yourself…” He trailed off, crying.

“It was my only chance of bringing you back…” He answers, smiling sadly as he relishes what he could in Mingyu's arms.

“You idiot…” Mingyu merely added on, still crying as he holds him tight, afraid that he'll completely slip from his arms.

Mingyu keeps crying, hoping that this was another nightmare the voice had conjured for him to break his spirits, he hoped that he could wake up and he would be waiting for him with his sheepish smile, and he could scold him again for staying up.

but it felt real. all too real.

The way his body was phasing to and fro being transparent then physical, the sweet words whispered into his ears that did nothing to soothe his pain.

“Please... don't go…” Mingyu pleaded.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry...Mingyu.” He only replied, crying.

Mingyu didn't say anything else and fully hugged the other's fading body, as light from the door envelops the both of them.

Mingyu comes to, this time, he was in the place he last saw before his seemingly eternal slumber, and before anything else, he felt lips against his own.

His lips.

They were breathing life into him, and washing away the pain the core brought upon him, opening his eyes. He sees the dimming light of life from his eyes, his arms instinctively coming up to wrap around his figure.

the shorter had enough strength to pull away from the kiss and let himself be held by the taller.

“Ah...I feel so light...Is that you, Mingyu?” He weakly calls out.

“Yes, yes. it's me.” He answers softly but frantically as he holds onto him, crying softly.

“Thank goodness…”

The silence would've filled the room if not for the hardly silent cries that were Mingyu's.

“Mingyu?”

“Yes, my love?” He answers, his voice breaking.

“I love you…” He muttered.

“I love you too, so much…please, stay with me…” He pleaded, but he knew it was too late, his pleas were never heard by the gods in the first place.

“Thank goodness...I was afraid...I couldn't say it again…” He muttered, before he closes his eyes, a soft glow enveloping his figure, the light becomes harsh for a short while that Mingyu had to look away for a short while.

When Mingyu looks again, the body of his lover was completely gone, like they were never there in the first place, and instead, he was holding two gems in his hand.

one had the orchid flower carved beautifully onto its azure surfaces, and the other merely held a smooth cerulean surface.

Mingyu's cries became louder at the sight, the reality of the situation finally sinking in as he holds the gems close to his chest, the only remaining reminders of the man he loved so dearly.

Yet the rain has stopped, and only the silent light of the sun peeking through could be seen.

The turbulently tranquil rain had stopped, and if only Mingyu had looked up, he would see a beautiful sunrise, bringing a surge of new hope to many.

But to Mingyu, he could only fill the skies with his tears, and the new day had only brought him pain, as his cries were hardly heard by the one he lost.

#completely self indulgent #honkai 3rd #honkai impact #seventeen x male reader #kpop x male reader #mingyu x male reader #fanfic #hi3rd

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reinepadova · 3 years

Text

To Be Seen

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There are many paths up the mountain. But the view from the top is always the same.

Qingce Village. A plot of land once dwelt by an enormous, dreaded beast. A great threat, and source of terror for its inhabitants. Dark were the skies, and molten was the earth. Stones quaked and shifted from battles sown, and water turned fog from the heat of conflict.

Many a life perished or fled – those that are able, found refuge in the marshes or by the sea. Those that could not, stayed and endured.

But long has passed those years of misery, Morax reflected, eyes turned soft at the drifting dust under sunlight. Only Mt. Qingce remains, steadfast and true. A preserver of the old and the young, and of the croplands turned abundant. The landscape painted with colors of tranquility, with shades of the quiet.

To this, he could say, was one reason he fought. Why he dared raise great spears against those that oppose him, that question his strength. Why his ambitions for a seat with the Seven was so great.

Why he let his life's blood spill and his flesh torn asunder, all to be used for trade.

All he had sacrificed... so that all may prosper. So those deemed weak but with a passion for life, and a mind that craves understanding may learn, may improve. May become greater than what they thought to be. What they can be.

And flourish they did, Morax thought fondly, gazing out the window to watch three children play. A boar in the distance, charging away. Admirably so, like the trees and blooms that persisted amidst the cracked earth, or emerged from the muddy waters that once flowed red.

His eyes narrowed, then shut, musings turned grey.

He has danced and sung to the tune of combat, played his part well into the final act. His will, ironclad – unyielding and absolute, against the odds. Against all the other gods. All to reach the peace the entire land longed for after the audacious declaration from Celestia:

「Survive, and be crowned The Seven.」

「Gain the power of the divine.」

「Be one above all, in your chosen land.」

And to this, he succeeded, with glory placed upon his head, and the remnants of slaughter at his feet.

The Prime of the Adepti, said they. A riotous cheer. A whisper, filled with dread. Ha. Even among the Seven – the original, and the newly seated – he is the eldest, hence, the most respected. And therein lies his burden. To be charged as the standard, to be exemplary in the eyes of his people...

Still. This position is not without its advantages – he would not have fought for it if there were none. Truly, he could not ask for more, even if he tried. The enormity of his titles, to be granted the highest of honors among those that dwell in the newly named Teyvat – bearing in mind the heavens that granted his godhood of course.

His people are proud of him. His land reveres him.

And yet.

Why must this... dissatisfaction linger? The feelings of restlessness. Aimlessness. Like a shell drifting in endless sea.

What must be missing, when the fruits of his labor, the smiles of his people, and the generations therafter, are present and abundant? When the inhabitants accepted his protection, his standards, with delight, and worship. When they honor him by fulfilling contracts in accordance to how he fulfill his. When they sing songs and tell stories of his conquests, of his deeds as lessons to keep in mind, as morals to strive for and progress to.

Why then does this void exist? What is it he still lacks as a being?

Is... he still enough? Is he –

“... is Mei still doing good?”

A murmur, gentle and small, broke through his musings, eerily echoing his thoughts out loud. Morax turned inquisitive, amber eyes at the closed door, wonder outshining the memories, and bringing him back to the present.

The Miss Lala had been explicit about the necessity of his confinement, citing the resurgence of chaos upon his appearance. Seeing the tired yet resolute set to her shoulders, he could only acquiesced. He did not wish to tire the lady more with an argument. But truly, it was an odd request, at best. His people are familiar with this form, and would not run in fright, as she so fears. Why, they would likely crowd around him, vying for his blessing and attention and –

He rested one claw under his maw, pondering. Ah. That brand of chaos. I see. It seems she has better foresight than the average mortal. And most considerate as well. How kind.

His ears perked, hearing a faint, crackling call of farewell at the main entrance. He swiftly nudged open the door of the lady's chambers and floated out, seeing immediately the quiant scene at the kitchen.

“You're doing very good. You can stop when you smell it turning to powder. It's like... milk, but very very faint.”

“Oh! Can Mei put it on the lilies after? Please? Pretty please?”

Even from behind, the tilt of her head, the softness of her stance, indicates a fondness for the child. There is no doubt she is smiling down at her as well. She patted Young Mei in between her pigtail buns and replied, “Of course you can! You can sprinkle as much as you want. After we make the soil mix.” The little girl squealed, turning back to her task with renewed vigor.

He drifted closer, brows furrowing when the lady discreetly rub at her eyes while the little one is distracted.

It seems I may need to intervene.

-{-}-

Stella raised a brow, feeling long whiskers brush over her shoulder, before the slight weight of the guardian's muzzle rested on it. She smiled when gold orbs focused curiously on the crunching and banging Mei's been doing, relieved that he showed himself after the chief went out for her rounds.

“It's for the flowers,” she explained, reaching to caress a glowing petal nearby. “A bird's eggshell is rich in minerals. Its as effective as any other fertilizer... but with lot less smell.” Mei giggled in agreement, adding that her Gran-gran was ecstatic when she was taught other tricks in the garden from Lala – especially doing away with 'pork poopy' all together. “Also, also, Lala taught Mei how to water plants!”

Stella chuckled at the inquiring eyes of their floating guest, who managed to tilt its head at her from an odd angle – the perks of having a long neck, I guess? “She keeps drowning the Jueyun Chili plants back in the Harbor. At most, they just need a sip within a week. Ha! I know that look,” she crowed, seeing familiar incredulity on the guardian's face. “I don't know why no one thought to cultivate herbs in their own garden. Or to water them for that matter. They can't always depend on the rain. No one can control the weather.

Besides, if you can cultivate rare flowers, like the ones in Yujing Terrace, why not something as common as herbal plants?”

-{-}-

It is because of their plenitude that such notion is not considered. The oceanids have a knowing of the needs of the land – as such is my deal with them. They have been good to Liyue ever since. Why, when the croplands of Qingce are at their most vulnerable, Rhodeia answered their plea in an instant!

– Is what Morax would have said. But he only let out a small rumble and slow nod, turning back to the little girl covered in flecks of white powder, gaze softening at the sight of her bright smile.

As insightful as the siren has been since the start of their journey, it is not unwise to tread carefully. Knowledge is power. I have yet to know what she will do with it, once bestowed. If only the Fatui have not been such a conniving force as of late. I would have welcomed any foreigner within my stone walls.

Nevertheless, her care for a child not her own or of her people is admirable and exceptional, a far cry from how that organization operates. Her good sense too, would make for an engaging conversation.

Throughout the endless centuries he lived through – and will continue to, perhaps – he beared witness to a myriad of changes, great and small. No detail is insignificant enough for him to overlook. Or at all. He could not afford to. For one changed clause, nay, even one unclear word, could spell disaster for his land's defenses.

That said, he could assert he has very good memory. All printed and verbal contents of a contract is written like a tablet in his head, etched deep and fixed. The prosperity Liyue is blessed with is proof of his steadfast attention to detail; to consider all particulars, both the advantage and disadvantage, before he would, as they say, 'seal the deal'.

It is rare indeed for him to think 'what more does he not know?'

And yet, here he his, observing and listening. The lady elucidating their intention to gather an interesting mixture made out of smoked rice husk, charred wood, clay and soft sand. Another source of nutrients, she says, for the Lilies to be comfortable in during transport.

Eventually, he could focus no longer at her words, seeing her fighting to keep awake, feeling her sway dangerously on her feet. Her charge looked up in concern as she leaned on the counter, eyes closed shut in pain.

-{-}-

Stella gritted her teeth, about to reach for her temple when her world shifted again.

Although she never indulge in the various wines this world had to offer, she can imagine this was how the drunks at the dock feel: head, heavy as ores; body, light as a feather.

Or was it, float like a feather? It certainly feels like she's in the air. Literally. A sensation she never thought she'd experience again after –

An inkling of worry crept up her neck, minutely thinking of Mei, before she faceplanted on something soft. She reached out a hand, feeling cotton and smooth silk. Her...bed?

“Urgh... where – what?”

A low snort nearby answered her. She felt too tired to think of anything of it. The pillow under her seems exceptionally comfortable right now. Maybe she won't suffocate if she stayed this way?

So. Tired...

A chuff sounded next, lighter in tone, before something wrapped around her shoulders. She breathed deep as sunlight burned her eyes, a tugging at her feet made her crane her head down. She now lied flat on her back, with a large, blurry... something, weighing her down.

“... Mei? What are you doing?”

Her charge was quiet, wholly concentrated on making sure her boots were placed near the bed before coming up to her. The little girl tugged and dragged a blanket up and over her legs, intending to swaddle her with it. Stella feebly raised an arm, wanting to help, but a gleam of teeth made her pause. A muzzle cradled a handful of the cloth near Mei's arm, and lifted it easily up to Stella's chin.

“Lala? You rest, okay?” the little girl whispered, smoothing down the blanket while staring at her with wide, understanding eyes. “You work hard again for Mei. The Lilies? Mei tried to follow you last night, but Chief-dàmā told Mei to stay and wait. Mei tried, but Mei too tired. Mei wants you to sleep now.”

“But Mei. The Lilies – ”

“Gran-gran always scold bàba 'a person who does not know good rest, does not know how to do good work'. Leave the Lilies to Mei! Mei will ask for help. Promise! Lala should rest.”

“Are you sure – ”

“Lala. Rest.” the girl asserted, a stubborn tilt to her chin, but eyes still pleaded for her to agree.

Before Stella could make up her mind, the weight on her chest suddenly spread, encompassing her down to her legs, trapping her effectively. A huff of hot breath made her squint and look up. Larger, glowing orbs stared her down, making her stare back, mouth agape.

Mei giggled, seemingly satisfied she'll behave while Mr. Guardian was around, and quietly left. The skipping tone of her steps was still loud enough for Stella to hear behind the closed door.

She sighed, gaze turning wry. “Alright. You made your point. Get off.” Having a predator over her like this would normally be a terrifying experience. But when she remembered how kind it had been with her during their sprint back to the village, and how gently it gazed down at Mei, she knew she could trust it – to a certain degree. She's sure it has the strength to crush her with a quick squeeze, but she's oddly confident it won't.

Stella quickly reconsidered her good opinion though when the creature had the gall to chuff, as if amused, and placed its large head next to her, adjusting its body to lie comfortably on the bed – but with her still under it!

A sudden thought went through her like a lightning bolt.

“If you can grow this large, why didn't you do so last night and we could, you know, fly back here?”

Amused eyes turn blank, blinking back at her with a look that spelled of realization.

Stella groaned, grumbling about 'common sense is not common at all' under her breath.

-{-}-

“I apologize, good sir. But Zhongli-xiānsheng has not yet returned,” Ferrylady intoned quietly, bowing her head.

The gentleman in Fatui robes raised a blonde brow, growing pensive. “Still? How peculiar. We thought this special consultant is only busy during an adepti's Rite of Parting. It's been awhile since the last one, isn't it? We heard he's fond of strolling around the harbor. He's not one easily missed.”

“That is not inaccurate. But – ”

“But as we value his expertise in all matter of things, we believe he deserves some 'R and R' once in a while, don't you think~? I gave him leave to do so however long he likes~” said a laughing voice at the doorway.

“Hu Tao-zhǔrèn!”

“Oh. The Director?”

Hu Tao smiled wide, closed lipped, strolling into the office with a dancing step. Despite her upbeat demeanor, the gentleman still sweat dropped at the strange gleam in her eyes. “A consultant's work is just as demanding as any other job in Liyue, you see. Its why those of this realm, and of the next, leave very satisfied from our parlor~ No complaints at all!” she giggled sweetly, eyeing him more as she took a dainty step closer. “Buuut. Considering you have been on such a long wait, we will give you a great discount! Twenty percent, including the incense. You'll even get double the savings if you have a buddy with you~” she sang, fanning out two dark coupons from her sleeve and waving them invitingly.

The gentleman froze in place, quaking internally in terror. His time in the Fatui made him all too familiar with subtle threats, and this is a masterfully done one. Luckily, the Ferrylady spoke softly again, distracting him from his oncoming panic.

“Sir, may I take a message? Or would you rather we send for you when he arrives?”

“Ah, ahh...no need! The Director is... very clear, ehem – we don't mind the wait at all! An appointment with him is not that urgent anyway. Just mention the Fatui is interested to get acquainted with him, and his knowledge of the obscure. We’re confident your business will greatly benefit from a connection with us.”

“Hmm... I doubt it,” the Director hummed breezily, turning to a window to gaze out at the full moon.

The gentleman blinked, thinking he misheard. “Excuse me?”

Hu Tao giggled cutely, glancing back at him with smiling eyes. “We'll keep your words in mind, good sir! Buh-bye now~ I'm sure you're a busy man yourself. Our dear undertaker will tend to you when you need our services. At any time.”

The gentleman gulped, eyes widening. “Uhh, right. Yes! With gratitude!

Uhm, farewell, Director Hu. Thank you for gracing us with your presence, and your time. You too, Ferrylady,” he hurriedly added, not wanting to often the boss of the funeral parlor by being rude to the undertaker –

The... undertaker...

One who buries the bodies...!

When the gentleman hastily scurried away into the night, the Ferrylady turned to her young boss, face turning worried.

“Hu Tao-Zhǔrèn? I apologize if this might be spoken out of turn but – ”

“Why am I so direct with a potential customer?” Hu Tao smiled more lightly, doodling something on a parchment with careless brushstrokes.

“...”

Hu Tao chuckled, used to the Ferrylady's silence. The quiet suits the atmosphere perfectly.

“Hmm. Let’s just say for those that have incurred death's wrath, dark butterflies shall sure to follow. Poor things. To think they would have to do such a thing. Such a waste of delicate beauty.”

The Ferrylady gasped, hovering her hands over her mouth, eyeing the rough symbol of the Fatui next to large ink splatters. “Oh my! You mean – ”

“When Zhongli-xiānsheng is back, warn him of the visit. Business might pick up soon. Who knows~?” Hu Tao shrugged, humming thoughtlessly into the moonlit night.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

[←Previous] | Chapter 4 | [ Next → ]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A/N: Sorry for the long introspection. I’ve been like this whenever I try to think link a 6,000+ y.o. Archon. Then again, no matter how much knowledge you have, there’s so many things you can still learn about.

Like common sense.

Quick translation of the honorifics I chose to use:

Chief-dàmā = Mei affectionately calling Granny Ruoxin ‘Chief Granny/Auntie’.

bàba = daddy/papa

xiānsheng = mister. In Japanese, its like ‘sensei’ (hence the Jap Dub xD)

zhǔrèn = director/manager

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Follower Tag: @meladollsims

#to be seen #zhongli #zhongli x female OC #zhongli x oc #fanfiction #companion mini exuvia #shapeshifting archon #hu tao #ferrylady #common sense is not common

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thereluctantinquisitor · 6 years

Note

"I keep waking up unable to breathe" Deryn and Cyrus?

In which Cyrus is haunted by the events of Haven, and Darren just happens to be the only one nearby. (I kinda just assumed that was for Darren and Cyrus? If not, I apologise, because that’s what I went with!)

Approx 1700 words, most under the cut

Fire. Screams. Bloodon the ground. Ash. A sky blacker than the burned husks of the buildings. Reaching.Desperate. Pulse pounding. Feet moving without reason, running in a direction.Any direction. A demon shrieks hatred beyond the wall, setting teeth to sting, clenchedso tight they crack and turn to dust. Fingers fumble – a blade drawn from its sheath.Metal catches the flickering light, red and hot and spreading with the wind.Snow mingles with soot on the tongue, stinging the eyes, shedding tears.Ruinous. Ruin. Pain. Fear.

Fear ofdeath, or fear of being the only one to wake after the slaughter?

Cyrus shot upright, breaths coming in gulps that pushed frantically against the inside of his unwilling chest, begging for space. He clawedat the fabric of his shirt, soaked through, too tight, too—

“… Cyrus? Are you all right?” The voice was soft; so quiethe barely heard it over the sound of his own blood beating in his ears.Sweating, Cyrus swung his legs hastily off the side of the bed, foot catching thesheets, tripping him as he tried to get up. The ground caught him in its hardembrace, striking hard, and for a moment he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe, or get up, orblink as the floorboards mocked him, sweat dripping from his face onto the hardwood. No, not sweat…

“Fucking… fucker…” Cyrus gasped, then struck the ground withthe side of his fist, frustration welling up beyond the panic, hisheart beating furious against the injustice of a foot snaggedin sheets. It seemed so minor – so ridiculous– compared to what he had just relived behind closed eyes. Yet, in the pits ofhis rage and frustration and sour-spit fear, he curled in on himself, frozen,one leg trapped at an odd angle against the side of his bed, the other folded beneath him, arms shaking.

And he wept.

Dark locks hung over his eyes as he tipped his head forward,ashamed and bitter, more resentful of his own pathetic image than the memory ofmonths-old slaughter. It was not soft or restrained, but angry and heaving,coughs wracking his chest as he lowered himself down to the cold floor.Useless. Pathetic. It was all in the past. Those deaths were in the past. The demons, the dragon, the fire and ash,the burning, the pain, the fear. It was done. Over.

So why wasn’t he?

He felt Darren before he saw the boy, unable to raise hishead, not proud enough to look at anything other than his curled fists pressedhard against the ground. The blond dropped to his knees at Cyrus’ side, handshovering uncertainly over his shaking form as if he were volatile.Dangerous. That’s what people said, after all. That was what they called him.

They didn’t care.

“Hey…” Darren’s voice was soft, hesitantly reaching outwhere his hands failed to breach the distance. They were the only two in thebarracks, the other members of the squad opting for a late night at the tavern. Even still, of allthe people to catch him like this, Darren was the last person Cyrus would havewanted. The others all saw him as something half-done; he could tell. ButDarren? The kid almost looked up to him. Or at least never wrote him off,even when Cyrus gave him every opportunity to do it. “Just uh… breathe deep,okay?” Darren continued, voice trembling. He was afraid? Why? “I-I… do you need meto get someone? Something?”

Sharply, Cyrus shook his head, still refusing to look up,tangled, useless. He wished he could claw the memory out of his skull; scratch itoff the back of his eyelids. Anything would be better than this. Anything thatcould make it stop just stop—

Gentle hands moved about his snagged ankle, warm even through the cotton. It took Cyrus amoment to register that the pressure was not from the tangle of sheets, andbefore he knew it, Darren had freed his foot and was carefully lowering his leg to theground. It was such a small thing. Stupid, really – a gesture that shouldn’t really mean anything...

... but it did.

“Um… I know you don’t really like to talk about… stuff,” Darren murmured, moving tosettle beside Cyrus, his back leaning against the edge of the bed. “But it canhelp. Sometimes. I mean, that’s what everyone kept telling me. I didn’t thinkit was true, but in the end, they were kinda right. Just saying what’sbothering you out loud can make you feel better. Not all the way…” Hegave a small, self-conscious shrug, cheeks colouring the longer he spoke. The boy was not used to the sound of his own voice carrying through silence. “But you don’t have to make it all the way.Some of the way is okay, too.”

The painful sobs had slowed to shallow, half-drawn breaths,and Cyrus was all too aware of the ache in his chest that ran far deeper thansimple exhaustion. Shakily, he managed to tip, leaning heavily against the sideof the bed, letting himself sprawl out on the floor, sweaty and shivering allat once. The kid’s words drifted in the space between them, hovering awkwardlylike a guest unsure of how to politely leave. But Darren didn’t push or rush or try to talk his way out of the silence. He just sat in it with Cyrus, bearing half the weight. Weight Cyrus just couldn’t carry. Not tonight.

"I keep waking up feeling like I can’t breathe."The confession fell from Cyrus’ lips before he thought to stop it, and once it left, he was surprised to find he had no desire to take it back. Instead, he letout a long, shaky breath, and let his head tip back against the mattress. “It’sdriving me fucking crazy.”

Darren’s response was preceded by a pause long enough tomake Cyrus wonder if the boy would even speak, but then he figured Darren was justgiving him room to keep going if he wanted to. “Is it a nightmare?” he asked,blue eyes wide and so utterly free of judgement. It twisted something dry andcynical inside of Cyrus’ gut, but he pushed the sensation aside. On any otherface, Cyrus would never have believed such an expression. But on Darren’s? Well…

“Haven.” It sounded so small. So inconsequential. A singleword that haunted his dreams. But to his surprise, Darren just nodded, his ownexpression drawing tight. Grim. It didn’t suit him, so Cyrus continued. “The shit we’ve seen… that we’regoing to see by the time this is allover…if I can’t get over Haven, how the fuck am I going to keepit together when the rest starts piling on top?”

“I don’t know.” Darren’s reply was honest. That was allCyrus could really ask for. “But… you don’t have to just lie there and bemiserable all alone in the dark. It’s okay to say something.” His tone shifted, hinting at concerned accusationas he turned his head to regard Cyrus. “How long has it been happening?”

Cyrus considered lying, but what was the point? “Since... well, on the wayto Skyhold. After Haven. Out in the snow. We were low on food, and…” He let hiseyes flutter shut. He was exhausted. “Youknow that sick feeling you get? When your stomach is empty? That happened a lot and it… made everything worse. The memories. They just came rushingback. I could see it all again. Smell it. Cooking meat. People trapped inbuildings. I didn’t remember until that moment – I must have blocked it out or something- but it had made me sick. I threw up while we were waiting to die in theChantry. And I… and I couldn’t…”

Cyrus shuddered, but before that feeling of impossible dreadhad a chance to overwhelm him, Darren threaded his arm under his, sliding in close. Such asmall, innocent gesture, but they sat there, arms linked, sprawled on the dustyfloor of the barracks, and for a just a fleeting moment it didn’t all seem too hard. It wasn’t all too much.Shit, after all, the kid was there, moving from one day to the next. He was stronger than peoplegave him credit, and in more ways than one. Cyrus felt something squeeze hishand, and he realised Darren was holding it, the way one friend holds anotherwhen they are standing on unstable ground. “It’s okay,” Darren said gently.Cyrus wasn’t sure if he always spoke so softly, or if he was just that unsure of what to do. “Whatever itis you couldn’t do… you don’t have to do it. Not alone, at least. That’s why we’reall here, right?”

Then, he smiled. Despite sitting on the floor in themiddle of the night, tangled with someone sweat-soaked and pale as a wraith, Darren rearranged his features with more sincerity than Cyrus had ever mustered in hisentire life, and smiled. It wasalmost too much; Cyrus had to look away, his icy gaze staring out into thedark, pulling menacing shapes from the shadows. Only, with Darren sitting there beside him,he knew they weren’t real. Somehow.

“Yeah... right.” Cyrus sighed, fatigue washing over him suddenly andswiftly, bleeding him dry. “You should get somerest, kid. Training’s hard enough for you when you’re not half asleep.”

At that, Darren let out a soft laugh, nodding, his tousled hairshifting with the movement to drape at some other odd angle. “Yeah. That’s true. Butthat’s okay, too.” He shifted slightly, sliding his arm out of Cyrus’ andgetting to his feet. “See, you’re always pulling me up off the ground outthere. On the training field. On missions.” Darren turned and looked down atthe still sitting man, his gaze warm. Kind. Whenwas it ever anything else? Then, without further hesitation, he held out his hand. “It’s about time Itook a turn, right? Gotta pull my weight sometime!”

Cyrus stared at the offered hand incredulously, then relaxed slightly,shaking his head and letting his lips slide into a smirk. “You… have a fuckingstrange way of looking at things, you know that?”

Darren just grinned as Cyrus took his hand and let thedeceptively strong boy haul him to his feet, bracing him when he stood. “I know. But strange isn’t so bad,is it?”

They stood for a moment, Cyrus regarding the boy, handsclasped, unsure of what to say. Then, with a sense of finality, Cyrus nodded, squeezed Darren’s hand, and let go.

“No, kid. No, it isn’t.”

#dragon age fanfiction #the dawn squad #cyrus #darren miller #reluctant writes #poetry starters #(I took a little liberty with the quote to make it fit Cyrus' speech haha)#angst #nightmare #emotional hurt/comfort #for once it's Darren doing the caring #and Cyrus doing the crying in the dark #u_u #reluctant replies #thanks for the prompt <3 #backtraf

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